


Sleep It Off

by MediaWhore



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cuddles, Drabble, Ficlet, Fluff, I didn't mean to write this but then I did ooops, M/M, New Year's Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 07:06:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9167617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MediaWhore/pseuds/MediaWhore
Summary: I've felt better ! Hello 2017 !!





	

**Author's Note:**

> @froggybangbang forced me to put this on AO3. Sorry it's short af.

The first thing Louis is aware of when he wakes up is a distant banging coming from the depth of the house and, for a second there, his disoriented brain can’t quite place the sound. Whatever (and whoever) it is seems louder than necessary and his head throbs painfully in protest. Louis moans, sad and pitiful when a wave of nausea hits violently as he attempts to move a little. He retreats back into the duvet quickly when the desire to vomit strengthens. 

“Why,” Louis whimpers, rubbing his nose against his pillow and curling his body into a comma. First day of the year and he’s already dying. 

The noises still haven’t stopped, echoing throughout the entire house, and if Louis were feeling only a little better he would be loudly protesting. As it is, he only has enough energy for a small shiver before trying to go back to sleep. 

He must doze off a little because the next thing he’s aware of is the sound of the bedroom door creaking and someone opening the curtains. 

Louis grimaces. “Was that necessary?” he croaks, squinting against the sunlight’s violence. 

He can’t see much but he’s pretty sure Harry is grinning. 

“Gotta make sure you’re still alive darling,” he replies happily and rationally Louis knows he’s not yelling, but it still feels like it. He’d be angrier but Harry sits down next to him on the bed and puts a warm, comforting hand on his ankle through the duvet. 

Louis huffs, closing his eyes. “It’s a miracle I am, what with World War III going on in the kitchen,” he replies with disdain, hoping Harry will come closer for a cuddle if he complains enough. 

Harry doesn’t. He just snorts and squeezes Louis’ ankle, uselessly sitting there instead of comforting his boyfriend. Louis is dying. Surely Harry can see that. 

“I always forget how dramatic you are when you’re hungover,” Harry chuckles. 

Louis opens his eyes, giving Harry a betrayed look from where he’s cuddling his pillow. “You take that back Styles, I am always dramatic.” 

Harry blinks slowly before nodding. “Well I braved World War III to make you a cuppa,” he says, pointing towards Louis’ nightstand and sure enough, there it is, fuming and in his favourite mug, next to a big glass of water and some paracetamol. “So whenever you feel like joining the living again, your survival kit is there.” 

“I think what you’re trying to say is that you created World War III in the house with all that clanging and banging…” Louis replies, arguing for the sake of arguing and knowing that after six years together Harry can read the thank you hidden underneath. 

And sure enough, Harry smiles softly, reaching for Louis’ face and passing his fingers through Louis’ fringe. Louis hums, moving towards the caress almost without noticing. 

“Feeling pretty rough, huh babe?” Harry says softly, never stopping to pet Louis’ hair. Honestly, Louis chose his life partner so well. 

“Near death,” Louis admits, closing his eyes and reaching for Harry’s jumper, gripping the bottom and letting his fingertips rest against the soft skin of Harry’s stomach. “Remind me to never drink again,” he begs in a small voice like he always does when he’s hungover. 

Harry chuckles because, of course, he knows Louis never means it. Still, he doesn’t sound too mocking and he lowers himself to Louis’ level to give him a small kiss on the forehead so really, Louis is a winner in all the ways that matter. 

“Just rest for a bit,” Harry whispers, pressing small kisses to Louis’ cheek. “Sleep it off.” 

He’s about to get up and leave and that is unacceptable. Louis tightens is hold on Harry’s jumper, moaning tragically. 

“Don’t go,” he begs, eyes still closed. 

Harry sighs but Louis knows he’s smiling. It’s the fond one, the best one, when he looks like Louis is the best thing in the whole universe and like he feels lucky no matter what. 

“If you wanted a cuddle you only had to ask Lou,” Harry teases, taking Louis’ hand away from his jumper and getting up. 

Louis is about to beg again when he hears the sound of Harry unzipping his jeans. It takes him a few seconds to take them off but soon enough he’s back on the bed, tangling their legs together and rubbing Louis’ ankles with his feet, his fuzzy socks tickling but not uncomfortably so. 

Louis sighs happily when he feels one of Harry’s arms wrapping around his waist, his big hand warm on Louis lower back. _Yes._ Louis cuddles up a bit closer, hiding his face in Harry’s body, rubbing his nose where his neck meets his shoulder, taking in Harry’s comforting scent. This is so much better than his pillow. He can feel each relaxed breath that Harry is taking, the sound already lulling him back to sleep. 

Louis knows he’s a goner when he feels Harry kissing his forehead again before he starts humming softly. 

Not a bad start to the year after all. 


End file.
